Tom Roper's Running Training

In which children pass remarks about my shorts

I crowned a week of many miles with a seventeen mile run, much of it in thick fog with no better than 5m visibility, up to High and Over, to Bo Peep, Firle Beacon, the Beddingham TV aerials and back on the ridge above Norton and Bishopstone, and finishing up with Tidemills and the seafront. As I passed the sailing club the drinkers in the bar raised their glasses to me, and for the second time in two days a young child remarked to a parent on my shorts, 'look, Mummy, there's a man running in shorts'. This shows the decadence of modern youth. When I was their age, I was allowed to wear nothing else, even in the ice and snow bound winter of 1962-63. In spite of the thick fog, there were hang-gliders at Firle Bostal.

Total mileage this week: 40.63
Seven weeks till the Brighton marathon.

 

Seven and eight miles

On with the relentless accumulation of distance. I ran seven miles with the Striders on Wednesday evening, and eight on my own yesterday afternoon. Having an afternoon off I was able to run over Seaford Head in a soft late afternoon light

Round Shoreditch Park

Tuesdays are sacred to speed sessions, today's consisting of twelve fast 200m legs, with 100m recoveries
and a mile warm-up and cool-down.
I ran through Hoxton to Shoreditch Park to do this, past landmarks such as Cooke's pie and mash shop. I have never patronised the Hoxton branch, though I used to visit the Dalston one, where live eels writhed in the window.
Shoreditch Park is not pretty, but it is satisfying to run round it, as close to the perimeter as possible. Three circuits were enough to despatch the prescribed sessions. I see that my fastest 200m took 00:01:04:67, my slowest 00:01:11:62

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Fifteen miles: half way there

Thus concludes the eighth week of a sixteen week training programme. So far, so good. Apart from the knee injury, things have generally gone well. What was Norman Douglas talking about when he wrote South Wind? Today the wind blew from the south, but as cold as any north-easterly, bearing freezing rain. I wondered what to wear, and though I had a long-sleeved top under a waterproof running jacket, I could have done with an extra layer.

It was so unpleasant that, for all my time on the tops of the downs, I saw but one other person, a rambler. The car parks at Bo Peep and Firle Bostal, usually crammed with people taking dogs and children for walks along the top of the escarpment, were deserted. But the knee held out; the only time it hurt was when I ran into the wind and rain. My gloves were worse than useless, and my hands were so cold that I made a hash of opening a gel at mile 9 or thereabouts. I ended up with sticky energy gel all over me, but none in my mouth. In summer this is unpleasant and hazardous, as it attracts wasps, but in winter, there is a particular discomfort in being coated in sticky stuff in freezing temperatures, that I had not experienced before.

I missed the Janathon lunch yesterday; my swimming lesson, which I shan't bore you with, prevented me from getting to London in time. I was pleased to see that Jogblog was properly honoured for organising it all: see Helsieboo's blog for an account.

There's still some uncertainty about a half-marathon in the training period. The Steyning Stinger is full.

Miles this week: 30.75
8 weeks till the Brighton Marathon

 

Janathon

 

Back to the canal

I'm taking it carefully. The schedule required an eight mile run today, but my knee still hurts a week after the accident, and I seem to have knocked the scab off in places, so I thought best not to attempt anything to ambitious. In any case, work commitments meant that I could not afford to take too long away from the desk. So I ran four miles, much of it along the canal.

I've stayed away from the canal recently. For all its romance, it is not easy running. There's lots of walkers, dogs, cyclists and other runners to dodge on a narrow tow-path and I find myself very nervous as I approach the tunnels under the bridges, in case I meet an oncoming cyclist, or a troll.

It was another warm and sunny day. I shall run again tomorrow, again not far, but I think it more important to get out and run than to try for heroic distances. By Sunday I hope to be back to fifteen miles.

Good lad yourself

'Good lad yourself', cried an old lady on the Holloway Road, as I ran along in on a beautiful pre-spring day. I thanked her with a gracious wave. My knee is not right, but I thought an easy session would not hurt, so I have put back today's speed session till later in the week.

This was another nostalgic run, up to the Angel, the length of the Liverpool Road, down Holloway Road and back through Barnsbury.

Tomorrow evening, there is what may be for runners the most interesting of the Marathon 2500 events, organised to mark the 2500th anniversary of the battle of Marathon. Dean Karnazes, who ran 50 marathons in 50 UDS states on 50 consecutive days,  and Paul Cartledge, Professor of Greek History, and A G Leventis Professor of Greek Culture at Cambridge, will be discussing the Battle of Marathon and Modern Sports. Register to participate online here: http://marathon2500-5.eventbrite.com/

Down to three miles

Thanks to Wednesday's knee injury, I ran for the first time since this afternoon, and instead of the proposed 15 miles, made do with 3. I had a swimming lesson yesterday, and the knee was fine (I'll say nothing about the flipper-induced calf cramps), but then that did not require my knee to bear weight. In fact today I managed the three miles with a little stiffness.

I think no period of marathon training passes without some injury, so though I am twenty miles short of this week's planned total, I am not too dismayed. I shall be back to normal next week.

Total miles this week: 15.12
Nine weeks till the Brighton Marathon.

Gratuitious picture of my knee:

 

Knees

I can run for mile upon mile in the countryside, over tree-roots, badger's setts and rabbit holes, ice, snow and slippery leaves and keep my balance; put me on a flat urban surface and it's another story. About three miles into a seven mile run today I fell, grazing left knee and arm.
This took place on Green Lanes, near the entrance to Clissold Park. I had decided to go as far as the park, run round the perimeter, and return. Garmin-less, I worked out that this would make the required distance.
The knee bled copiously and my leg was streaked with blood all the way down my shin. I must have looked as if the zombies from nearby Abney Park cemetery had been chewing my leg.
As I ran on, passers-by glanced at me warily; only one young woman, bless her, asked if I was all right. 'Did you know you've hurt your leg?' she asked, nervously.
In the park, so well know to me from the years in the eighties when I lived in a gorgeous flat overlooking it, there were small definite signs of approaching spring: small buds on the horse-chestnuts, daffodil stems poking up beside the paths.
The winners of Janathon have been announced

Janathon winners

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Hills

There are few hills in EC1, so today's requirement to run eight hill ascents was going to be difficult to achieve. I remembered that Margery Street, near Mount Pleasant sorting office, has a hill. It is not quite long enough for the two minutes ascent the programme prescribed, but it is about a mile away, so fitted the need for a warm-up and cool-down at beginning and end.
It was hard work too. Who knows what the office workers at the Children's Society or the customers in the café on the corner made of my Sisyphean progress?
I think it did me good

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